


to each other.

by deary_you



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Boys In Love, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, i want to go to tatinof. someone fly me to US, pre-tatinof nerves, thinking in bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-15
Updated: 2016-04-15
Packaged: 2018-06-02 10:09:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6562210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deary_you/pseuds/deary_you
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>we dream of us on stage, under the sun, on the bumpy American roads and us together, everywhere, wherever we go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. to daniel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> from phil's pov.

_i love you i love you i love you._

I watch your chest rise and fall as you snore softly beside me. It’s a rare moment when you’re asleep earlier than me. You have your hand tucked under your cheek and the other slung across my stomach, your hand curled over my hip. I stare at the shifting shadows on your face as the TV continues to play in the background. Your lips are slightly parted, your cupid’s bow stark in the darkness. The contrast highlights the high of your cheekbones and the slant of your nose. You look so soft, so pliant, all the hard edges smoothed down, every night. You look so peaceful, so much younger.

I reach out and sweep your fringe down. You’ve started to wear your fringe away from your forehead at home. You say that you want to match me when I start wearing my hair into a quiff. We both know we just want to get rid of the fringes but they’re essentially part of our brand. I don’t say it but on the days you push your fringe up, you’re so handsome.  But on most days, I’d like it to be down. Sometimes, I forget that I’m 29 and you’re turning 25. Is that selfish of me that I want us to be young forever?

I tug out your hand underneath your cheek. I know you’d complain of numbness and weird muscle pain in the next morning. Your hand hangs limp in mine as I shift it to the space between us. I hold onto your hand as I rub my thumb against the inside of your wrist. You stir under my movements and I still for a moment. You mumble something and somehow burrow your face closer to my side, gripping onto me tighter. I scoot down a bit to lay on the bed properly. I switch off the TV and haphazardly place my glasses on the bedside table.

I let out a long sigh. My muscles are still aching from rehearsals. My neck still stings when I shower. But it's a satisfying pain knowing that we're done with it. For now. What's left is to go the States, spend time with my family, have a few more rounds of rehearsals and let the tour start all over again. My stomach flutters again at the thought of performing in front of thousands. We get high from the adrenaline and the atmosphere. But, the first show always give me the butterflies.

I remember that first night in Glasgow. You were pacing up and down in the dressing room while I sat on the sofa, looking at you. You’d stop occasionally to bounce on the balls of your feet, look at me with a blank face and continue pacing again. Frankly, you were making me more panicked than I already was. I stood up and hugged you.

You immediately melted into my embrace and you tucked your face into my neck. I must have said words of comfort for your sharp harsh breaths turned into softer slower ones. I don’t know how long we stood like that, clung to each other. We sprang apart when someone knocked our door, saying it’s almost time. I held your hands and your eyes were shining bright when I looked into your eyes. Of course, we’d bumped into each other's faces when we tried to kiss each other at the same time. But, that’s just always us - awkward in everything we try to do.

Even though rehearsals ended two days ago, you’re still lethargic from them, seeing that you’re sleeping earlier than usual. I have a hate-love relationship with rehearsals. I don't have an inkling about stage acting or directing. I don’t think I’m suited for the stage. I prefer to be behind the comfort of the camera. But _you_. You love them. You say your lines with passion, you walk across the stage, exuding confidence. You negotiate with our stage director for us to do this and that. I love seeing you in your “director” mode. You come up with new ideas and you manipulate the stage into your own strengths, to us. I had to remind myself several times that it wouldn’t be professional to jump on you right then.

I love looking at you from across the stage and seeing your wide grin and crinkled eyes. You look so ecstatic. Confident. Comfortable in your own skin. A far cry from how you used to carry yourself in the past. I’m privileged to have witnessed that growth. I drop casual comments that you should pick up drama again but you just hesitate and hem and haw. I’ll just continue my job in encouraging you. Seeing you like this makes it worth the decision we made almost two years ago to write the book and perform in tour. I’m so lucky to have you as my partner in life and business.

I turn slightly to my side and try to tuck myself closer to you without jostling too much. I’m still jealous of your ability of falling asleep easily. But you’re cursed with being a light sleeper. I’m contented with letting you answering the door in the morning if I get to see your soft peaceful-looking face like this. Maybe, I’ll get a tiny bit jealous later during the tour, knowing that the others will get to see your curly hair and soft dimpled smiles in the morning. Maybe I will but who knows?

We have a little more than a week to enjoy the Florida sun before the tour properly starts. Then, it’ll be a long two months of sleeping in unfamiliar hotel beds and uncomfortable (separate) bunk beds. But for now, I will savour these few days that I get to sleep next to you in our bed. I press my thumb to where your dimple is. This, this is one of the things I’ll miss doing in our bed, in our lounge or wherever possible I can do it. I’ll just have to bear with it, I guess.

I glance at my phone and apparently it’s almost 2 in the morning. I didn’t realise I’ve spent a long time thinking. We (only me, actually) have to wake early to pack enough clothes for two months. I almost groan thinking of all of the laundry. I will interrupt your Clone Wars binge-watch and force you to fold clothes with me. Yeah, that sounds about right. I shuffle closer still to you. I lull myself to sleep, listening to your snuffles.

I dream of us on the bumpy American roads, on the stage, everywhere together.


	2. to philip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> from dan's pov.

_i love you too i love you too i love you too._

I wake up to the birds chirping and the sunlight hitting right into my face. I brush my hair away from my face and rub my eyes to get rid of the last ebb of sleep. I'm aware of your arm across my chest and the weight of your leg on mine. I turn slightly to my left and I see that you're lying on your front. Your face is half squashed against the pillow and your mouth is slightly open. Are you drooling? I couldn’t guess.

I chuckle at how ridiculous you look with how your hair is sticking out everywhere. How sexy. I trace a line from your cheek down to your stubbled jaw with my thumb. I’ll miss seeing this sight for the next two months. It’s true we’ll get to spend some time together at your family vacation before tour starts. But, it’s not the same. It doesn’t feel quite right, not surrounded by our trinkets, the sounds of sirens and that open smile you keep hidden from the audience.

I stretch out my whole body and groan at satisfying feeling. You didn’t even rouse with me almost bouncing on the bed. I’m jealous that you’re a heavy sleeper. But if the benefit of answering the door in the morning is getting to see this hilarious side of you, I’ll gladly answer it. You mumble something and you turn your head, smushing it more into the pillow. All I see now is a big mop of black hair. I laugh softly.

I close my eyes and think about the next few months. I’m terrified if I’m being honest. To be performing of literal thousands, that’s nerve-wracking. But, I love it. I love seeing the different diverse delighted faces in the crowd. It’s euphoric. I love looking across the stage and seeing you looking back at me, as if you can’t believe that this is our lives. Because trust me, it is. I think about rehearsals. I enjoy them immensely and I love acting out all the sketches.

But, _you_. You are wonderful to me and the crew. Your enthusiastic energy keeps us going. You tell your weird encounters with complete strangers to the tour members. You make sure that we have breaks occasionally and take care of everyone’s welfare. You keep handing out sweets to everyone, even the janitor sometimes. I don’t know how your pockets can hold that many sweets. Most importantly, you keep me grounded, you comfort me when I’m feeling tetchy. You're my anchor and I’m grateful for that.

I recall the pre-show rehearsal in Leeds. Everyone was panicking as someone somehow misplaced all of the lighting cues. I should have listened to you when you said that we should have come back from Manchester a day earlier to test out the venue. But, I was stubborn and wanted to stay a day longer since we hadn’t gone back for a while now. I saw you fiddling with your phone and your brow furrowed, your face intense in concentration. I don’t know why it didn’t occur to anyone of us to draw up the soft copy of the document needed. Everyone was delighted that we could continue with the rehearsal without a hitch then. I could have gone up to you and kissed you but that’s unprofessional and uncomfortable to do in front of colleagues. So, I settled for giving you a dimpled smile and a big thumbs up to you. This is why I’m so glad that I have you as my companion in every aspect. You always seem to know what to do and say.

I snap my eyes open when I hear a loud sneeze from you. I turn my head to look at you and I see your head raised slightly above the pillow. Oh, you are drooling. You give me a look of utter confusion and smack your lips several times. I open my mouth but I don't know if I should even say anything. Then, you just say a small “hm” and you fall promptly back to sleep. I’m bewildered and my body shake with silent laughter. You ridiculous, ridiculous man.

I shift to wrap my arms around you and I press my face into your hair. You may look like a squid boy in your twitter picture profile but I’m the actual real octopus boy here. I play with your hair, spiking it and flattening it. I wouldn’t want you to go back to your spiky hair phase though. You look absolutely gorgeous in glasses and your fringe swept away from your forehead.

I'm secretly pleased that you'll be wearing your glasses most of the time in the bus. You complained previously that wearing contacts makes you even more dizzy in long car rides. Will I be jealous knowing that the others will see you all rumpled and sleepy in the tour bus? Most probably. But, it's alright since I'm the one sharing the stage (and life) with you, not them.

I inhale the familiar scent of your coconut shampoo. I try to commit it to memory; you can’t bring the whole bottle overseas and at the amount of shampoo you use every time you wash your hair, the tiny bottle you’re bringing wouldn’t even last a month.

I hope there’s a way to sneak into your bed in the tour bus. I don’t think I can sleep without you by the side. I guess I could, seeing that we occasionally sleep in our separate beds from time to time. But, it’ll be strange knowing that I just can’t go over and cuddle you when you’re just a few metres away from me in the tour bus. I’ll think of a way to sneak past people.

I glance at my phone, realising that it’s only 9:07am. There’s still less than an hour until your phone’s alarm rings at 10am.  I think of the unpacked suitcases at the foot of our bed. There’s still loads to pack and I hope to escape from folding clothes. (I know you won’t let me.) Until then, I doze off to your coconut-scented hair and the thought of you suntanning in the Florida sun.

I dream of us on the stage, new freckles on your back and you by my side, wherever I go.

 

_fin_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i thank Hai for spending time in giving this a beta. you're such a lovely human bean to me. ily always.
> 
> always you can contact me at [twitter](https://twitter.com/deary_you) and [tumblr](www.deary-you.tumblr.com) ^^


End file.
